


15x09 coda: wouldn't be gone

by contemplativepancakes



Series: Season 15 codas [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 15x09, Coda, Episode: s15e09 The Trap, M/M, idiots to lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:22:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22287829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/contemplativepancakes/pseuds/contemplativepancakes
Summary: “Just- wait. I have to tell you this. I mean, you already told me once, right?” Dean laughs weakly.He kneels beside Cas’s chair, and Cas raises an expectant eyebrow at him. Dean gulps. “Cas, man, you’re right. I haven’t stopped thinking about this since I got you back. Fuck, you were almost stuck in purgatory again. I don’t think I could have dealt with that. And, yeah, I agree. This is ridiculous. It got ridiculous five years ago. It’s stupid to be scared of this when Chuck could snap his fingers and end it all at any second.” Dean breathes. “I’m not scared."
Relationships: Castiel/ Dean Winchester
Series: Season 15 codas [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1539418
Comments: 28
Kudos: 151





	15x09 coda: wouldn't be gone

“You couldn’t forgive me, and you couldn’t move on. You were too angry. I left, but you didn’t stop me,” Cas spat.

Dean had just stared at Cas. _He wanted me to stop him?_ He didn’t say anything then, but he’s regretting it now. Now that Cas is missing, now that Dean’s alone in purgatory, _again_. Dean stops and puts a hand on a tree trunk for balance, tracing his fingers over the rough bark.

_Cas._

_Cas, I hope that you can hear me. Wherever you are, it’s not too late…_

_I should’ve stopped you. You’re my best friend, but I just let you go, because it was easier than admitting I was wrong._

_I don’t know why I get so angry… I just know that it’s always been there and when things go bad… It comes out. And I can’t stop it. No matter how bad I want to, I can’t stop it._

_And I forgive you. Of_ course _I forgive you._

_I’m sorry it took me so long._

_I’m so sorry it took me until now to say it._

_Cas, I’m so sorry._

By the time Dean’s choked his way through his prayer, tears are dripping down his face, but he has no time to waste. “Okay,” he breathes. “Okay.”

He clambers up from his knees, feeling them creak because of the dampness seeping into his bones. At least this is familiar territory. He knows how to look for Cas here, right? But last time, there was no time limit. Fuck, how is he ever going to do this?

Somehow, through a miracle to beat all miracles, he finds Cas leaning against a tree. Dean shudders a breath of belief. He can’t believe how lucky he is. He lurches forward to fold Cas into a hug. He clings to Cas, clutching his fists in that ridiculous trench coat. Cas tells him how he got away from the leviathan, and Dean just lets the smooth cadence of Cas’s voice wash over him, breathing in and out in time with him.

“Cas, I have to say something,” Dean says. He takes a centering breath. He thinks he’s ready to say it. Fuck, he loves Cas so much. What would he have done if he never found him? It’s unthinkable, and Dean can’t bear the thought of Cas not knowing. Not knowing how much he means to Dean, to everyone he’s ever touched. Dean doesn’t think he’s ever met anyone as good as Cas, as unwaveringly loyal. And, God, it’s so far past time he let Cas know.

But then Cas is saying, “You don’t have to say it. I heard your prayer.”

Dean swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. Well, fuck- way to put a pin in it. But Cas is right, the clock on how long the rift will be open is counting down, and they need to move. There’ll be another opportunity. Dean watches as Cas walks away, but this time Dean’s determined to stay by his side.

Later, as they’re sitting together in the bunker’s kitchen, Dean’s trying to work up his nerve again when Sam walks in. Dean looks up. “Did she leave?” he asks, about Eileen.

“Yeah,” Sam says tonelessly, and Dean wishes he could impart some hard won wisdom on Sam, but some things you just have to learn for yourself.

They talk for a minute, brainstorming about how they could defeat Chuck. Dean knows they’ll think of something; they always do.

Dean knocks back the last of his whiskey, but he doesn’t find the liquid courage he was seeking. “I’m beat. I’m gonna go to bed,” he yawns.

Cas watches him as he stretches, and Dean’s face flushes red. “Night,” he says and beats a hasty retreat.

Dean dances around the words for days. They haunt him, those three little words. He’s always thrown his hands up at the protagonists in the rom coms he claimed not to like when they couldn’t nut up and get together, but now he has a little more sympathy. Although, he muses, his life is probably more like a soap opera than a rom com. Less comedy, more stupid plot twists.

He looks up from staring down at the table in the library when Cas turns a page more violently than Dean would deem strictly necessary. “Problem?” Dean asks.

“No,” Cas says, but he hesitates. “I told you I heard your prayer, right?”

“Yeah? And I meant it, Cas. I’m sorry. I was a dick. Nothing that happened was your fault.”

“Yes, I know,” Cas says, and Dean snorts. “I just meant… you haven’t stopped praying since then.”

Dean looks up, feeling less like a deer in the headlights and more like roadkill. “W-what?”

“I’ve been waiting for you to tell me, but, I’m impatient. I told you I wanted you to tell me to stay, but maybe I needed to give you a reason to. Dean, I lo-”

“Wait!” Dean blurts, and Cas looks at him in exasperation.

“Dean, this is getting ridiculous,” Cas huffs, “I-”

Dean pushes back his chair and jumps up. “Just- wait. I have to tell you this. I mean, you already told me once, right?” Dean laughs weakly.

He kneels beside Cas’s chair, and Cas raises an expectant eyebrow at him. Dean gulps. “Cas, man, you’re right. I haven’t stopped thinking about this since I got you back. Fuck, you were almost stuck in purgatory again. I don’t think I could have dealt with that. And, yeah, I agree. This is ridiculous. It got ridiculous five years ago. It’s stupid to be scared of this when Chuck could snap his fingers and end it all at any second.” Dean breathes. “I’m not scared. I love you.”

And then Cas is on him, almost falling out of his chair to catch Dean’s lips in a kiss. It feels so fucking good, and Dean would almost think waiting ten years was worth it if it didn’t mean they could have been doing this the whole time.

Cas pulls back, his lips slick with saliva. “I love you,” he whispers, and pulls Dean’s head to his shoulder.

They clutch at each other, running fingers wherever they can touch, seeking reassurance that this is real. Cas’s words from weeks ago come back to him. _We’re real_.

Dean pulls back and ducks his head bashfully. “Sorry it took me so long to say it.”

Cas runs a hand through Dean’s hair. “It’s okay. Some of us are more emotionally stunted than others.”

That startles a laugh out of Dean. “You little shit,” he says, but then Cas is kissing him again and any other words get lost between their mouths.

Dean’s already panting and starting to chub up when Cas yanks them to their feet and shoves his thigh between Dean’s legs. His thighs are everything Dean’s ever imagined they’d be, but he can’t help but wonder what they would feel like in some other positions. Dean drops to his knees, the first time he’s been on knees because of his love for Cas instead of his grief, and Cas looks down at him in wonder as he runs his hands through Dean’s hair. Dean’s sure his hair is a mess, spiky and unkempt with the way Cas keeps touching it, but he finds he doesn’t mind. Cas tugs, and that’s enough of a signal for him.

He unzips Cas’s slacks and pulls them down, mouthing at his boxer briefs. Cas is starting to harden when Dean reaches up to pull him through the slit in his boxers. Dean feels the heat, the velvet slide, the heft, and he is thoroughly appreciating it, pumping his hand up and down Cas’s shaft as he strokes him to full hardness.

“Dean,” Cas pants, his voice even deeper than usual, “that feels so good.”

“You ain’t seen no-”

“Hey guys, I think I found something.” Dean turns his head to see the very unfortunate sight of Sam approaching, his tablet in hand. Sam hasn’t even looked at them yet, and Dean grabs at Cas to try and tuck him back into his underwear, but all that does is put his hand on Cas’s dick when Sam does look up.

“Oh my god! Are you for real? In the library?” Sam looks scandalized, and the tightness in Dean’s chest lessens when he realizes the thing Sam is most upset about is them defiling all his precious books.

Dean manages a smirk as he shakily rises to his feet. He combs a hand through his hair, confirming that Cas had done his best to make it look like he stuck a fork in an outlet. He shrugs his shoulders. “What can I say? I don’t know man, Cas just got, like, overcome with this animal lu-”

Sam cuts him off with a raised hand as Cas elbows him in the ribs. “More information than I need to know. What I do know, though, is that you guys have your own room. Two, even, between both of you. And you couldn’t have moved this there?”

Dean shares a heated look with Cas. “You know what, Sammy, you’re right. Let’s go, Cas.”

Sam shoots him a bitchface, one of the classics, and Dean can’t help but grin in return. He grabs Cas’s hand and drags him towards the door, but Sam shoots out a hand and holds Dean by the elbow.

“Hey. I’m happy for you,” Sam says softly.

“Yeah, Sammy. Me too,” he replies as he looks over to see Cas’s gooey expression. “Me too.”

When Dean wakes up the next morning, stretching and smiling in contentedness at the pleasant ache thrumming through him, the bed is cold. His smile fades as he gropes around on the other side of the bed and his fingertips don’t catch on anything but rough sheets.

He gets up and pulls his robe around him. He ambles through the bunker to the kitchen, poking his head in, but there’s no one.

Next, he goes to the library, but Cas isn’t there either, just Sam, resting a book on his stomach as he sleeps.

“Cas?” Dean calls, a crack in his voice.

There’s no answer.

**Author's Note:**

> look, I tried to resist that ending. In light of us seeing jack in the empty at the end of the ep, though, it was on my mind.  
> Title from Blake Shelton's "She Wouldn't Be Gone"  
> let me know your thoughts, and come find me on [tumblr!](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/contemplativepancakes) <3


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